Novacane
by cinderellathings
Summary: After meeting a mysterious girl at a frat party, Brittany's life is changed forever for the worst. She sits up alone recalling the night that led up to her current misery. Drugs, stoner!Santana, druggie!Brittany. Inspired by "Novacane" by Frank Ocean.
1. I Think I Started Something

A knock on the door. It seemed so simple. It was just a knock. But really, it was the start of a downward spiral. It was the start of something that would ruin my life forever. The things that happened behind that door were all it took to change everything. I look at the lines of powder separated on the kitchen table under the dim lighting, remembering that night.

_I look at the piece of ripped paper in my hand, making sure I'm at the right address. "6200 W Arlington St." Looking up at the apartment complex, I have to admit, it's a pretty nice building. I half expected something way crappier. The girl I met at the Puck's frat party didn't come across as particularly rich. Don't get me wrong, she was drop dead gorgeous. But something about her seemed a bit shady. Why didn't she live on campus? And why hadn't she ever seen her on campus before? Still, I was so drawn to her the very second I saw her. Her perfect features and the way her eyes met mine, sent the most perfect wave of something indefinable, but still so, so amazing through my body. She had the smile of a Hollywood starlet, and the body of a stripper. She was so perfect. I had to know her._

_Just thinking about her brought the biggest, child-like, animated grin to my face. That is, until the realization hit that I could be with her right now, as opposed to standing outside her apartment building smiling like an idiot. I practically skip into the building, past the doorman and the man at the desk who didn't look too pleased with the noise I was making, and into the empty elevator. I look at the sheet of paper again. "Apartment 1703 7pm." The top floor. I could feel my stomach twisting into the most intricate knots that it would take a rocket scientist to untangle. With each passing floor, I felt the knots untangling and tangling themselves again in knots far more complex and painful than the last time. I briefly wonder if the people coming in and out of the elevator can hear the whooshing sounds that the knots make because for a second, I swear that I can._

_Floor 17. I take a deep breath and step out, too nervous to move towards the door at the end of the hall. My feet had a different idea as they carried me forward down the long hallway. I check my watch. 6:58pm. Good. I have time to adjust my heart rate, which, at this point, is beating a 5 miles per second. I take a deep breath and knock._

There it was—the knock. My biggest mistake. I should have turned around and left her to open the door to an empty hallway. But I know I'm not that strong. I'd probably do it all again, just to see her again.

_The door opens, and, immediately, my hopes are shot. Instead of the face of the flawless brunette that I was hoping to see, I'm met with the one of a blonde. She doesn't look old enough to be able to afford an apartment in a building this nice. She's gorgeous. Admittedly, she's not as beautiful as the brunette she was hoping to see, but she was beautiful nonetheless. Speaking of the brunette Latina, where was she? Was this the wrong apartment? Maybe this blonde girl was another one of her dates? I instantly deflate. I'm about to say that I had the wrong apartment, but the other blonde girl must have noticed the unmistakable tinge of sadness and disappointment in my eyes because she speaks first._

"_You must be looking for Santana." Honestly, I don't know how to respond to this. The brunette girl had never told me her name. At the party, we just flirted a bit until I was pulled away by Puck, who needed me to drive him to get more beers. She just slipped me a sheet of paper with her address saying "I want to see you again. Next Saturday?" When Puck and I had finally gotten back, the police had cleared the party out and she was already gone. I'd never gotten her name._

_I just nod at the blonde girl, who'd been giving me a weird look while I was off in space recalling details of meeting the brunette that hasn't yet made her way out of my head since I'd met her. She holds up a single finger, telling me to wait a minute. I just nod and look down at my feet, fighting the urge to run away. What if this Santana girl was the wrong person? What if it's actually some random woman who'll look at me cross-eyed when she comes to the door and sees a random blonde stranger staring back at her. _

_My head shoots up when I hear the voice of the blonde girl yell, "Hey, Assface! Your date's here! Come get her before I take her!" After some words I can't make out, the blonde girl reappears at the door, opening it wider this time. "You can wait on the couch," she says, a sly smile lacing her face. I now feel like going into this apartment is a bad idea, but, once again, my feet make the decision for me and I find myself already walking into the apartment._

_From the outside, you'd think that the apartment was tiny and cramped, but being in it, I feel like if I was given an eternity, I'd only be able to get to discover half of it. I sit on the couch and instantly decide that it's the softest couch I've ever sat on. It also has to be the most expensive. I suddenly feel out of place in this room full of expensive items. It's not decorated elegantly like you'd see in most expensive homes, but you can still tell that a lot of money went into it. There are guitars on display on the walls and a giant flat screen hanging in the center of them. Under it is every video console I can think of and an extensive collection of movies and video games. On another side of the room, there's a table full of what looks like a bunch of tubes and boxes. I can't make out what they are, but before I can put more thought into it, the blonde girl is sitting next to me._

"_I'm Quinn. I'm sorry I didn't get to introduce myself earlier. Santana's just getting dressed. She's such a prick about looking perfect."_

"_Um, no. It's, uh, fine," I respond, still wary of the relationship between Quinn and my brunette, who I'm hoping is this Santana girl because that name is so beautiful. I think she can sense this because she responds, "Santana is my roommate, by the way. And she'd kill me for saying this, but she hasn't stopped talking about you since that party." A smile darts across my face. Not only is Santana the girl I've been looking for, but she's been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking about her. All the excitement and nervousness comes rushing back at once. Quinn just stands up and laughs. "Lovebirds these days," she says walking towards the door, sliding on a leather jacket, and grabbing her keys."Have fun," she winks as she walks out, slamming the door behind her._

_As soon as she does, a beautifully distressed girl in jeans and a purple hoodie with sopping wet hair runs out from a room I assume is the bathroom. "Quinn, did you fucking scare her away?! I fucking swear-"she stops as she notices the familiar blonde figure sitting on her couch._

"_Hey, Santana," I say standing, my body once again exerting confidence that I can't seem to pinpoint the origin of._

"_Hey," Santana says, cheeks flushed from embarrassment. "I-I just, um," the beautiful brunette stutters, not knowing what to even say. Still, she looks so perfect in her own world trying to find the right words to say._

"_Let's, um, go upstairs," she finally says._

The morning sun shines through the window above the sink full of dirty dishes that I'd never gotten around to washing. I walk over to close the curtains. I fucking hate mornings. All they do is remind of the times where I could wake up to them, as opposed to stay up all night creating these temporary problem solvers until the sun tells me once again that my days are meshing into one long, continuous, painful one.

I start to pace around the kitchen, replaying the night in my head.


	2. I Feel Good

_She leads me further back through the apartment. It seems like it's way bigger than I thought, if that's possible. When we're almost at the end of the apartment, she suddenly pulls me to the left and out a door that takes us to the main hallway of the floor. I'd be wondering who the hell designed this place if the way Santana was holding my hand wasn't shooting an indescribable feeling through my entire body. I just keep following her. Finally, she leads me up some stairs that take us up to God knows where. We just keep walking higher and higher until we reach the light at the end of the long tunnel._

It's ironic, really. I followed her through this tunnel to a light at the end, when, in actuality, the darkness in the tunnel was just this long, extended chance to walk away. When I reached that light, I was too far gone to turn back.

_We're on the roof. We step onto fake plastic grass and walk over to the edge. It has the most amazing view of the city. You can see every light on in all the buildings on this side of town. It's like from here, you could just choose a light and follow it to a whole new world never before visited. All you'd have to do is pick one. Man, how I'd love to be able to escape into a different world. I'd love to just get away from everything._

_I turn to see Santana next to me, almost as deep in thought as I was a few seconds ago. She's so beautiful._

_"What are you thinking about?" I ask sweetly. She turns to look at me. I mean, really look at me. Her gaze on me feels like she's reading the story of my life just by staring past the soul in my eyes. Suddenly, all those lights and little worlds below us don't matter anymore. I just want to escape into the world behind the light in her eyes. The one where I could see past any facades or walls she's built around herself. I want to escape into the world. Where she's all I need and I'm all she wants._

_"I'm just," she sighs, "thinking." I move closer. With every inch I move towards her, I can feel this electric current. It's like we mold more into one person with every passing second, creating this unbeatable synergy that could probably do just about anything we wanted it to. It felt that powerful to just stand beside her._

_I leave only 3 inches between our lips. "About what?" I ask, although I'm more concerned with using my lips for other purposes right now. She looks down at the lack of space between us, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I just… have you ever wanted to just escape?" she says._

In that very moment, I felt myself give her my everything. I felt us fuse into one person, one heart, and one soul, inhabiting two bodies. And even though we were split in two, we were so much stronger than before. But this is all her fucking fault.

_"Only every day of my life," I chuckle. I watch her until she's out of my line of sight and I feel her move behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I can feel every single spark flowing through my body at a hundred miles a minute. I know she feels them too._

_"Well, then," she whispers into my ear sultrily, "let's escape together." I feel her pull away and suddenly, the warm Manhattan air doesn't seem to be able to keep me cozy the same way that she does. I follow her to where she has a blanket spread out on the plastic grass. She pulls something out of her pocket and hides it behind her back._

_"What's that?" I say, too mesmerized by the devilish look she was giving me to care about the answer. She stares at me intently for a second._

_"Do you trust me?" she says without breaking her stare. For what seems like an eternity, I stare back at her. Truthfully, I don't even know how to answer her. It's not that I don't trust her. It's that I do and I don't even know why. Telling her would just confirm the fact that I am head over heels for her already. It's scary feeling to give yourself away to someone else, especially without your own consent._

_"Yes," I say almost at a whisper._

_She pulls the hand she has behind her back to the front to reveal a plastic baggie full of something I'd only seen on television. In her hand, she had something that people throw their entire lives away for. Still, an hour later I'm lying on top of her and we're feeling the effects of something powerful coursing through our veins._

_She flips us over and suddenly, she's on top of me breathing cool air onto my neck with a hand running through my hair. She moves closer to my ear and whispers, "Do you feel it?"_

_I feel a lot of things. I feel her heartbeat colliding with mine. I feel this adrenaline rush mixed with a refreshing calm washing over me. I feel the heat that this beautiful girl on top of me creates between my thighs. I feel everything I need to and nothing that I don't. I don't feel rushed or stressed. I just feel her. I'm not sure which drug is stronger—the raven-haired beauty whose lips have moved to my pulse point, causing my mind to dream up the most sinful things to do to her, or the physical substance coursing through our blood, making every touch tingle in the silliest of ways._

_"I feel," I breathe out, "good." She smiles into the crook of my neck._


	3. Don't Let The High Go To Waste

**Bad days have a way of turning into good things. Thus, I had time to do this. (:**

* * *

_"Don't let the high go to waste," she whispers into my neck. Her hands travel up my sides, pulling up my shirt along with them. She pulls it up over my head. Her lips instantly find my stomach and they make their way lower and lower until they reach the point of no return. She looks up at me, her eyes pleading for permission. I tell her with my eyes that she never has to ask._

_Her hands immediately find the zipper of my jeans and she pulls them down to my ankles. The way her hands feel sliding down the length of my legs feels amazing. I kick the pants off and impatiently wait for her to tend to the burning desire coiling up between my thighs._

_I close my eyes to feel her. She's the only thing I ever want to feel for the rest of my life. I can feel her cool breath on my skin, inching higher and high up my thigh. I feel her fingers discovering every inch of my skin. Suddenly, I don't mind the teasing anymore because it doesn't actually feel like teasing. Her touch feels so passionate. It's like she wants to be acquainted with every inch of me. It feels like she wants every single nerve and cell in her body to meet every single one in mine. I never want it to stop._

_I can see anything, but I can feel everything. Her body lowers onto mine and her face finds its place in my neck. I crane my neck a bit to give her more room. She lets out the most exasperated breaths into my neck. Every barely-there kiss she leaves puts stars behind my eyes and I feel my body levitating off the ground. She is pure magic._

_Her legs move to the sides of mine to straddle me. She maintains her position, leaving soft kisses on my pulse point. Her hand slides down the length of my side to my waist._

_"Brittany," she breathes into my ear lustfully. I feel her hand move to my center, teasing through my panties. With my eyes still closed, I move her hand to the waistband of my underwear, urging her to take them off and grant me the release that I desperately crave._

_"Be patient," she whispers. Her hand slides back up, taking my shirt with it. "I want this off," she commands in the sexiest, neediest voice I've ever heard. It doesn't help that the way she's touching me is making me go fucking insane. She pulls the shirt over my head, discarding the object as if it's a bomb set to detonate at any second._

_She stops all movement and I open my eyes to see why._

_If only words could describe the look in her eyes right now. Her eyes rake my body as if she wants to take in every inch of it. It's like she's slowly taking pictures of every single part of my body, cell by cell._

_"You're so," she says without looking up at me, "beautiful." Her eyes find mine as if they've just barely mustered up the courage to. She stares deep into me, dark brown darts gently piercing through a crystal blue lake. I can't help but see a change in her eyes. Maybe it was the drugs talking, but I could've sworn I saw a change in her happen right before my eyes._

_She suddenly rolls off of me and starts collecting my clothes._

_"Santana?" I almost whisper. "What are you—"_

_"Let's go inside. It's, uh," she says in a voice so low I can barely hear it, "cold out here." She takes my hand and pulls me up. I whisper an okay and follow behind her, still confused as to what just happened._

_We were about to… then she just… but I don't think I mind._

_I follow behind her with my head down, trying to think of something to say. Or do? Maybe that was it. Maybe she just doesn't wanna have sex with me. Maybe she doesn't like me that way. That makes no sense, though, because we were halfway there already._

_When we get back inside terrain that I recognize as her apartment, she turns to look at me. She almost seems… nervous? What happened to the confident girl that I met last week? The one who, about a couple minutes ago, was about to take me on top of a blanket on a Manhattan rooftop? Then she just… stopped._

_"Um, Brittany?" Santana stares up at me with nerves you can see through her half-lidded eyes. Somehow I don't think this is the work of whatever's coursing through our veins. I don't answer. I feel my nerves from earlier coming back. I think I just made her even more nervous by not answering because she lowers her head._

_I don't know what it is or where it came from, but I feel something prompting my hand to move up to her chin. I lift her head up and move closer to her._

_"Yes, San?" She blushes at the new nickname, then stops herself. I don't' even have to think back on my life to know that this moment, the way she blushed, has to be the cutest thing I've ever seen._

_She takes a deep breath. "Would you like to maybe," she reads my eyes, waiting for something to discourage her, "spend the night… with me?" She attempts a small smile to hide how much courage I know it took her to ask me that._

_I smile much, much larger. "I'd love to."_

We spent that night in each other's arms. For some reason, the shady stranger that I'd met at a frat party a week before, suddenly became the most beautiful part of my life. I'd already felt like I knew so much about her already when I didn't even know the basics.

Too bad I had no idea what the hell I'd gotten myself into.


	4. Numb

Santana's Point of View

I wake up tangled within the limbs and nerves of an angel. A fully clothed angel. Wow.

The sunlight only barely makes its way past the curtain, casting light rays upon her face and making her iridescence just that much brighter. Then again, I think she would glow in the darkest of rooms.

I slowly start to untangle myself from the beautiful mess that is our conjoined bodies. I watch her as I move, making sure not to wake her. She's so beautiful when she's asleep. She stirs a bit when I finally break free of her grasp and it makes me smile at just how cute she could be.

I quietly make my way to the kitchen and take a seat at the island. That's when it finally hits me.

What the hell am I thinking? I can't go down this road with her. I can't get involved with her. More importantly, I can't get her involved with me.. I've never cared about any other girl enough to actually give a shit about her wellbeing, but Brittany... I can't do this to her.

It hasn't been that long, and yet I feel like there's something special about her. It's that something special that I saw in her eyes last night that told me that I couldn't have sex with her. Of course, I still want to do the most sinful things to her body, but I also want to take my time and discover every single inch of it. I want to run my hands across that masterpiece and follow up with my lips, planting sweet, meaningful kisses everywhere. I've never felt that way about anyone. I mean, I felt that for Quinn once, but that was high school. I've never even looked at Quinn that way again. No doubt, she's gorgeous. But Brittany is... damn.

I'm broken out of my thoughts by a familiar face with a sleepy, yet earthshattering, smile painted on her face coming towards me. She looks amazing wearing my old boxers and tank top, even though my clothes are a bit too small for her. She wears those clothes better than I, or anyone else, ever could. I smile at the thought of seeing this ever morning. But I can't think like this... can I?

"Hey, Sleepyhead. I was just about to make some coffee. You want some?" I offer, not knowing any other way to get to hear her beautiful voice. Her smile brightens at hearing my raspy, well, more raspy than usual, voice. It occurs to me that this is my first time speaking today, so my voice hasn't quite warmed up yet.

"I'd love some," she finally answers in that wonder just-woke-up as she walks over to the coffee maker and begins loading it. "But I'll make it. I mean, you let me crash here. It's the least I can do, right?"

I stand and walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her as she makes the coffee. I place a gentle kiss on her neck. I'm honestly not aware of what I'm doing, but she does that to me. She makes me feel like I'm floating- like I don't have to worry about anything.

"Mmm," she hums, "I'm not gonna be able to concentrate on not spilling hot coffee on if you're gonna do that, San." I smile at the use of the nickname I was awarded last night.

"Sorry," I breathe into her neck. I slowly force myself, little by little, to tear away from her and reclaim my seat at the island. I immediately miss the proximity. I watch her reach up into the cabinets to find two mugs. My small tank top rides up a little bit on her tall frame, revealing bits of her toned back. I can't help but stare in awe. She's immediately drawn to Quinn's mug with a penguin face on it.

"Oh my gosh, Sanny! This is the cutest mug I have ever seen in my life! May I use this one?" she turns to me with wide eyes, clutching the cup to her chest as if she's already grown an attachment to it. Quinn loves that mug. I mean, Quinn isn't here. She always gives me my space whenever I have company. I'll just wash it. She'll never know the difference."

"Yeah, sure, babe," I chuckle, shocked at my own use of theh word "babe." I've always used that word when I want to get into some girl's panties. This time, I'm using it because, being caught up in the moment, it feels so natural to refer to her as mine. It feels as thought we've been together forever when, in actuality, we've only known each other for a week. But she blushes and it's enough for me to never stop using the word.

She turns back to the coffee, still smiling at out previous moment, pulling my favorite black mug down from the cabinet for me. How she knew that was my mug, I'll never know. I'd like to think that she just gets me.

She pours the hot coffee into the two mugs and looks over the assortment of creams lined up across the counter. She turns to me, biting her lip in thought. "How do you want it?"

The question catches me off guard. Maybe it was because I hadn't stopped thinking improper thoughts about her since I met her, but my mind immediately found itself in the gutter. She raises her eyebrow in confusion at me and gestures to the coffee.

"Oh, um," I stutter, "you choose." I give her a small smile as if I wasn't just thinking up sexy scenarios about how to please her.

The room becomes enveloped in a comfortable silence as she turns back to her craft, giving me the freedom to take a breath and gather myself. It's only 10am. Why am I this turned on by a cute girl in my kitchen making coffee wearing my old clothes and being absolutely flawless? Man.

I let my eyes run down her pale, toned legs and back up to the way that my boxers hug her ass. I watch the way that the tank top looks as though it's painted on her skin, matching every ripple of every muscle and every curve that her body offers. She picks up the mugs and walks towards the island, setting one down in front of me and taking a seat across from me.

"It's French vanilla. I hope that's okay," she smiles, noticeably nervous.

"My favorite," I say, my reassurance giving her a little more confidence.

The room falls silent again as we both take long sips of our coffees. It's odd; I've had this flavor of coffee almost every single day, but it's never tasted as good as it does right now. It's like some type of magic that Brittany has. I steal a glance at her over my mug, surprised to see that she's already staring back at me. I blush and look down. How does she do that?

I put my cup down and fidget with my fingers until I decide to just rest them on the table. I look up at her as she seems to be so enthralled in studying the penguin on her mug. She's so cute. Maybe I

can _do this. I know it might be hard, but maybe this _can_ become something._

"I wanna get to know you," I say, a little unsure of myself. Her penguin-induced trance breaks at my sudden outburst. She smiles up at me, making me a bit more sure of myself.

"What would you like to know?" she finally says, keeping her eyes locked on mine and a smile on her face to match mine.

"Hmm," I didn't think this through. "Question for question?"

"I love this game!" she squeals. When is she ever not the cutest thing in the world? I smile.

"Okay, um... how old were you when you had your first kiss?" Simple enough right. I watch her think back as if it was the hardest thing to remember.

"12. We were in some school play, though. It was gross. He was wearing frog costume and he smelled like spaghetti."

"I like spaghetti."

"Well then, you kiss him," she jokes.

"Know what? I'm good," I chuckle. "Besides, I kinda have my sights set on someone else," I wink, making her blush.

"Really? Who would that be?" he eyes narrow seductively.

"Do you really wanna waste your question on that?" I fire back.

She thinks it over for a second. "Good point. Hm... do you have a hidden talent?"

"That, ma'am, is for you to find out later," I wink again.

"No fair! You have to answer the question!" she pouts. So. Cute.

I laugh at her childishness. "Okay, okay. Um, I can knit pretty well. But don't go telling people. I have a rep to protect," I say in partial seriousness. She raises an eyebrow.

"You know, you're not as tough as you think you are," she teases. I can just feel the sexual tension in the room get denser.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

"Well, how about I come over there show you just how tough I am?" I wink a third time.

"Hmm... nah," she says with the most serious look on her face. My jaw drops along with my condifidence. She suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, man! You should see your face right now!" She continues laughing. I stay silent with a hurt expression on my face even though her laugh right now is probably the best sound that has or will ever reverberate within the walls of my kitchen. She notices my stoic expression and her laughter trickles down into a small chuckle.

"Aww, Sanny. Don't be mad," she coos. She gets up and walks around the island to me. She wraps her arms around me. "If it makes you feel better, you're a much better kisser than that guy when I was twelve. And you smell nothing like spaghetti. You're like a mixture of lavender and french vanilla coffee. Or maybe it's jasmine..." I smile at her lost train of thought.


End file.
